


Red | Nomin

by tastyflavour



Series: last notes [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Eating Disorders, Heavy Angst, High School Students NCT Dream, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 12:10:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20435804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastyflavour/pseuds/tastyflavour
Summary: "I've been burning red in the dark"Growing up isn't for everyone, some never make it.





	1. untitled 1- 28082019

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: MENTIONS OF DEPRESSION, EATING DISORDERS, ANXIETY, SUICIDE, CHARACTER DEATH

August 28, 2019

Untitled 1

__________

Na Jaemin stares at the thin paper between his fingers over and over again, memorizing the words and losing them again within his jumble of thoughts. He fingers the rounded edges and allows the meaning to curve over his tongue, leaving a bitter taste from the bile that rises up to his throat.

They're just words, they always have been. Another person has written them, staying awake during a long night, drawing out sighs as they sip their coffee and type just a bit more, yet the effect they have on his life is much more than he can comprehend. He finds it funny, how one person can ruin him, flip his life around and decide exactly how things will go down to the very last detail, before moving on to the next victim and doing just the same.

The door is abruptly shoved open and he crumples the letter into his backpack, turning to stare at Lee Jeno, who waves lightly at him before walking over to the teacher. He glances at his watch before standing up, bidding the teacher a quick goodbye and walking towards his next class.

His mind meets him halfway and he stills in the middle of the hallway, stumbling when students push past him. His next class awaits, but he makes the decision to head towards the bathroom, feeling his eyes begin to water as soon as he slips into one of the stalls.

Shaky, deep breaths leave warm lips as Jaemin dry heaves over the toilet, one hand clutched around aching ribs. After several struggles, his fingers find their designated spot and allow all of Jaemin's mistakes to leave through rotting teeth.

He wipes his tears with a red wad of toilet paper, tilting his head back in order to allow the blood to flow back into his brain and knock some sense into him.

The supervisor finds him half an hour later, buying into Jaemin's lie about having contracted the flu and walking him to class. Dazed, he stumbles through the day and before his thoughts have fully registered, he's greeted with the school gates. The hour burns deeply into his eyes, reminding him of another day that has passed. With heavy steps, Jaemin turns and heads home, empty eyes focused on the willow trees that pass by in rows.

His father locks eyes with him in the living room, gaze hardening as he turns his attention back to his notes, lips opening to remind Jaemin to "mature a bit, he's 18 now."

Jaemin's lips stay shut, as they always are, and life continues to snowball.


	2. untitled 2- 280919

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Even if i try to end this endless repetition, I only wander"

September 28, 2019

untitled 2

Jaemin is an alien trapped in a world of greed.

The thoughts keep him up at night, reminding him of what was meant to be and where he went wrong. He swallows them as they come, shying away from copper hands that reach for his throat at every chance they get, getting lost in the tangle of limbs that he's expected to outshine. 

His mind aches for a stimulation that it'll never get, growing a rotting brown, too caught up in being the tip of the mountain, the cherry on the childhood snack.

It's often, that the thought of what comes next, never gets passed Jaemin's ears. As if the possibility didn't exist, or maybe he had grown too tired to think of it, but the idea of a future grew less plausible with every day that passed.

Jaemin grows distant with himself in a way that he never has before. As others prepare for their life to fully take off, Jaemin grows more fearful, of forever living with the stranger that he has become, in a world where he was never meant to be.

Jaemin wonders if this is part of growing up, if this is what was meant to happen before he took a leap into the adult world. He wonders if he should be missing his childhood, wanting to curl back into adolescence, but the idea of it pushes him forward, willing him out of the memory of trauma.

He wonders what there is to miss if things have always been the same.

Waking in a blind daze, Jaemin bumps into the school photographer first thing in the morning, stumbling back into an empty space of the parking lot, flooding his clothes with thick, brown mud. He brings his hands up from his sides, watching the thick goo slip through his fingers, falling in puddles on the floor. 

Small rays of sunshine peek through the gaps of his fingertips, and he sighs at the slight warmth.

"I'm sorry." Arms reach out but he makes a point of ignoring her, standing up and cleaning his clothes off as best as he can. Small snickers come from his side and he picks up his saggy backpack from the floor, slinging it onto his back. He trudges toward the gym, spending a few minutes rummaging around for his gym clothes before pulling them on and dumping his old clothes into his locker.

The stench sticks to him like a wad of gum, and he's just taken a step towards the door when it's suddenly swung open, just an inch away from painting a beautiful bruise onto ugly skin. A shorter male walks in, and Jaemin steps back, waiting for the staring boy to pass by, only he doesn't.

"Why are you in here?"

Jaemin doesn't answer easily, staring blankly at him, waiting for the seconds to pass until he decides to give up. He counts to nearly thirty seconds before the boy steps back, giving way for him to pass through. As they're next to each other, he opens his mouth to speak.

"You really shouldn't be here, it's tennis players only in the morning." He pretends not to hear him, grabbing the handle of the door and attempting to force it open, only it doesn't budge.

"God, I told you that you shouldn't be in here. Why the hell are you here?" Jaemin turns to look at him, both confused at the sudden raise of his voice and the malfunction of the door. The stranger rolls his eyes, pushing past him and attempting to open the door himself, only to give up with a sigh.

He turns and walks towards the lockers, dumping his bag onto a bench and placing his hands over his eyes.

"I lock the door behind me every morning. No one gets in until coach opens it."

Jaemin frowns, glancing back at the door before turning to him. He wonders if he should speak, or keep his words to himself. It's an ongoing debate, one he's had for thirteen years, but there is a strange sense of urgency within him, as if time is fading.

"Why?" The words are quiet and he wonders if the boy has even heard him, but then he suddenly looks at him, hands moving away to reveal dulling eyes.

"Privacy reasons," His reply is short and he glances at his phone before letting out another sigh. He turns towards him, moving his body forward and placing his lips into a tight line. "Would you mind looking away for a moment while I get dressed?"

Jaemin simply nods, carefully turning around to face the door. He hears him rustle around for a few moments, falling into the deafening silence.

"Why are you pretending to not know me?" The voice comes as a surprise, and he turns around out of pure instinct, quickly turning back around when his eyes catch angry, red marks. The boy scrambles to pull his shirt on, and Jaemin can hear him breathing heavily before taking a deep breath.

Jaemin remembers the smiling boy that had blinded his youth, and he grows confused and frightened.

"It's just me, Jaemin."

He stays facing the door, eyes flickering around the room, wondering what to say.

"It's been ten years." It's been ten years, and I don't know anything about you anymore.

There's a silence, then Jaemin straightens his back. His fingers fumble, grasping for the correct words to say, but he gives up far too quickly "Do you know when your coach will get here?'

The door is suddenly opened, a bulky man meeting him with surprised eyes. Jaemin grasps onto his bag and moves past him, hurrying towards his next class as the bell rings.

Jaemin never sees Renjun again.

This is youth, 

letting go of childhood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to the struggling youth.


	3. untitled 3-28122019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "While staying silent, it seems that everyone left."

December 28, 2019

Untitled 3

__________

Jaemin has always been one beat behind, always one step slower than the rest. 

Those around him burn with passion, but little embers flicker behind after they'd left, each one being choked out of Jaemin's body with the intention of creating a fire. He doesn't mind if no one sees, because Jaemin has always had the urge to show them his fire once has grown large enough to cover him whole. The cold wind is always stronger though, and Jaemin's little embers disappear just as quickly as they come. He thinks it's because the universe never wanted them to grow, strangling them to death before they are able to become anything.

Perhaps that is why Jaemin feels so cold.

"I'm sorry it's late." He forces a foreign warmth into his words, gently handing the teacher his work. She grabs the papers quickly and begins flickering through, though Jaemin wishes she wouldn't.

Please, it's my life you're holding in your hands.

"Alright, I'll accept it but you'll lose some points." The words flicker through his head for hours later, watering down his thoughts and causing him to float once again. He knows that rationally there is no weight beneath the words, no severe consequences, but Jaemin feels as though he's drowning.

Papers always seem to hold great weight to him, a display of the light fading from him just as it had for his father. Na Jaemin is tied to the last of his family by a simple paper, his food set aside for him on that table just because that paper states it has to be.

Moreover, paper means effort, his dying flames.

When the bell rings, he makes his way towards the school doors in fluid movements, as though he really isn't there. Strangely enough, he isn't. Sometimes when he moves it feels like he's dancing, and he knows that deep down it's simply the effects of a long-standing disconnection between his mind and his body. Jaemin has always wandered on the brink of the edge of the universe, drifting between worlds.

He's nearing the parking lot when something tells Jaemin to look over, and though he isn't fully there, he still manages to make out a crouched figure lingering near the school building. The image is blurry, but Jaemin wanders over to the figure like a puppet, bambi-like eyes meeting his own.

A sense of recognition flows through his body and the brown-haired boy smiles up at him, just as he had once before.

"Hey, Jaemin." Haechan's voice comes out in the same honey tone that he remembers, and Jaemin's chest feels odd as he recalls a time when he had looked up to him back in middle school.

There is a stigma that sways with Haechan's every move, spreading so far that it is buried within every classroom of the school. Students graduate, and they move on, reaching for new things in hopes of fulfilling their needs. High school is stepping stone to a new life, and no one should stay forever.

The story goes that Haechan graduated last year, but he still comes by nearly every day, occasionally going in and greeting old teachers, but staying outside for the most part. Rather than seeming like a loser, Jaemin sees Haechan in a different light, one created by webs of memories. Haechan was always the shining light when they were kids, providing his own path for everyone to follow if they were too afraid to go their own way. He was never lost, never without direction, because he made his own. There was never a moment when he seemed to not be enjoying life, but slowly everyone had begun to notice a pattern of Haechan's pauses when the moment had ended. He seemed to hesitate more and more, before reaching a point where he no longer seemed to care, simply pushing himself into the sweet fruits of life. Haechan lived the most out of all of them, because this place was his life.

He lived then, because he wasn't sure if he would be able to truly live now.

Haechan never really left, he never really moved forward. 

Jaemin wonders what he should say, lingering near his side and glancing around at those who are just now heading to their car. His eyes flicker back towards the boy in question and he finds him looking back at him, but something about it feels empty.

Haechan is looking at him, but he's not really there.

"How are you?" The words spring out, and Jaemin fails to catch himself. The expression on the other boy's face changes slightly, and Jaemin feels as though he's reeled him back in slightly.

"I'm good, yeah, good. How are you?" There is a lot of hope in his face, and Jaemin doesn't know why it causes him to step back slightly.

He pauses for a moment, and attempts to smile like he used to, but his body wills him not to. 

"I'm good too." Jaemin scans him up and down, and a thousand questions fill his mind. He wonders whether Haechan has a job now, if he's going to school somewhere, if he's been alright these past few years. He wonders where Mark Lee, the boy who stuck to Haechan like a wad of gum, had gone.

Jaemin wonders, but that's all he does. 

A ring comes from his phone and he stops the alarm, noticing that it's time for him to begin heading home. The sun is starting to set, and though little beams of light stream through the nearby trees, the sky is beginning to grow a wary dark. 

The boy's chattering teeth catch his eye, and Jaemin pulls off his own jacket at the same time that Haechan stands. He pauses, then holds it out to him, and the other boy glances at the jacket, emotions shifting in his eyes before he opens his mouth to speak.

Haechan seems to be wandering again, somewhere Jaemin will never know, and a place where no one else will ever reach him.

"I-I should get going." He moves before Jaemin can get out another word. Jaemin watches him run off, and something inside tells him Haechan doesn't know where he's going either.

Haechan never steps foot near the school again, and Jaemin knows that wherever he had gone, he's still lost.


End file.
